Identity
Written: Jan 29 '09
|
Product Rating:
|
|
|
Pros: Light and deep and pleasant and philosophical and casual and fun
Cons: Ending is confusing and - it's all a dream!?
The Bottom Line: Identity continues Kundera's exploration of the strange, compelling intersection of self and sex in a relationship
|
|
|
| arkhaine's Full Review: Milan Kundera and Linda Asher - Identity |
A man and a woman at a hotel on the Normandy coast. The woman has been there a day already, and has gone sightseeing. The man, just arriving, tries to find her. And he does – on the beach, walking haphazardly amongst tourists and children riding sand-yachts. He calls out to her, “Chantal! Chantal!” She does not turn, and he begins to fear that she will be accidentally hit by a sand-yacht. “Chantal!” He runs closer, the woman turns, and – it is not her. It is is someone else. Someone older, uglier, clearly not his partner. How could he have been so wrong?
Identity, Milan Kundera's ninth novel and the third to be written originally in French, is about, fittingly, personal identity, specifically the difficulty in which it is created, and the ease in which it can be torn down. It is the story of Chantal and Jean-Marc, first from the perspective of one and then the other as Kundera probes the sometimes tenuous connections that make up a solid relationship. It is also, apart from a bizarre ending that concludes with an unfair cheat, comfortable Kundera territory, that light, philosophical, sexual land where men and women possess astonishing inner lives and remarkable ability to gently laugh at the entire world, no matter how bleak.
The novel – though the case could be made for calling it a novella, as it comes in at only 153 pages – opens with Chantal waiting for Jean-Marc at a hotel on the Normandy Coast, where they are to holiday. Chantal, tiring of waiting for him, goes for a walk along the shops and the beaches. She observes the emasculation of men who have gone from Fathers to daddies as they take on more family responsibilities. At first these thoughts are humorous for her, but then she is struck with the sudden though - “I live in a where men will never turn to look at me again”. It's not true, of course, but she can't shake the feeling. Later, when Jean-Marc arrives at the hotel, he is told she has gone out. He decides to find her, and crosses much the same territory, and shares many of Chantal's observations.
Kundera switches between Chantal and Jean-Marc at important stages of the novel. Generally, these are times where one of the characters has come to a significant intellectual or emotional decision or understanding regarding their partner or themselves. Then, Kundera backtracks somewhat and show us the other character's interpretation of the event. Thus, we are able to see the misinterpreted silences, the words spoken at crosswires, and the emotions that mean a lot to one, but not as much to the other. Both Chantal and Jean-Marc believe that they understand their partner well, but as we jump from one to the other, we learn that this is not necessarily the case.
Chantal confides in Jean-Marc that she is concerned men will never look at her again. But she doesn't mean that, not really, and it was only her distraction that made her say it. Jean-Marc, however, takes her seriously, and becomes concerned that she might want to loosen their tie. Soon, anonymous letters appear in their mailbox addressed to Chantal – a secret admirer. She, for some reason, hides the first letter from Jean-Marc, which means the next letters must be hidden as well. Back and forth we go as Kundera examines the subtle shifts of perspective that allow for huge gaps in understanding between the two.
Kundera's narrative voice is less present (some would say intrusive) in Identity than elsewhere. Generally his characters are presented as fictions of the author, with their situations and thoughts provided as spring boards for Kundera to comment upon philosophical matters, relationships, and sex. No attempt is made to create rounded or 'real' characters so much as ciphers for Kundera. Not so with Identity. The thoughts come wholly from the characters, with almost the entirety of the narration devoted to Jean-Marc or Chantal's perspective. This works well because much of the novel revolves around the mistakes people make in their relationship when misinterpreting their partner.
Lest this novel seem like something of a relationship-advice book, mention should be made of the primary theme of the work – that of identity. Kundera clearly indicates this theme, both by titling his work Identity, but also in having most all of the thoughts and experiences of the protagonists act as methods to explore the different facets of each character's sense of self. Chantal and Jean-Marc are constantly revising their understanding of themselves and their partner, and when not doing that, they are stating aspects of themselves to the reader. This allows us the opportunity to watch their identities shift over the course of the novel, or perhaps it is more accurate to state that we receive a greater awareness of who they are with each passing page. Lives are not meant to be stated in a long paragraph to each person we meet, and this is now how the novel is written. Rather, events will bring forth a thought, which will coax a memory, which will colour a scene, which will alter a character's perception, which will bring forth a thought...and off it goes. Chantal and Jean-Marc are presented as organic characters, people who shift and change as their lives do.
The ending suffers from a bizarre slip into a dreamland, or a nightmare, or something – what, we don't clearly know. Events come to a head in a confusing manner, though this does work in favour of Kundera's primary theme. Essentially, he strips Chantal of her identity, fulfilling the promise his intellectual exercise has made throughout its hundred and fifty odd pages. If identity is to be properly explored, then the lack of it must be examined as well. This final sequence is very hard to follow, both because it is written like a dream, and also because it is designed to be deliberately obtuse and nullifying. And, to add insult, Kundera really does make of the ending a dream – the characters wake up, and it was merely Chantal's nightmare. But which bit? When did the nightmare start? Chantal doesn't say, and Kundera isn't going to reveal that secret. The importance of the question is that it is up to us, the reader, to determine the break-point of the novel. We are the ones who will say when Chantal and Jean-Marc's identities – which are already fiction, by virtue of their being fictional characters in a novel – become fictional even to themselves. These sorts of games can be overwhelming, and the ending certainly requires careful reading, and perhaps another run through for good measure. But Kundera's point, though subtly made, is clear. Our identity is what we make of it, but also what we make of others and what they make of us. Everything is tenuous, and our grip on our self can only be as strong as the grip we have on others. Identity is short but its theme is strong, and the novel itself is written in a pleasant, almost chatty manner. Recommended, but more strongly for those who have read some of Kundera's earlier works.
Recommended:
Yes
|
|
|
|
Epinions.com ID:
arkhaine
|
|
Member: Damian Kelleher
Location: Brisbane, Australia
Reviews written: 161
Trusted by: 18 members
About Me:
I am back.
|
|
|
- Add to My Yahoo!: 
- Add to Google Homepage: 
© 1999-2009 Shopping.com, Inc.